“I am almost afraid to suggest that we may have met before,” said Pollock to Zelda, when they were seated at the table.
“I didn’t suppose a soldier was ever afraid,” replied Zelda, non-committally.
“I intimated,” repeated Pollock, “that I had seen you before. If you wish to ignore the fact--”
“Oh, I shouldn’t do that. I remember--the horse--perfectly!”
“Again thanks! I had a dim impression that you rode well yourself. But you and your escort seemed anxious to cast a cloud of dust upon your merits. My glimpse was only fleeting.”
“Let me see. We did go off rather hastily. Oh yes! You frightened our horses; I remember now! We had paused to admire the landscape when you burst upon us suddenly and put our steeds to flight.”
They laughed at this ingenuous explanation and paused to heed a bit of by-play between their hostess and Copeland on the labor question. Every one contributed to the talk until the hostess, who professed radical views, changed the subject.
“Mr. Merriam, please. He’s my uncle. He doesn’t allow any one to call him colonel.”
“I beg your pardon, and his! He’s unique if he doesn’t care for a title. He was an officer, wasn’t he, in the Civil War?”
“He was something; but he never mentions it.” Then brightly, with her frankest air: “You may have met him during the war.”
“Thank you, immensely! My enemies have always charged me with extreme youth. I am grateful beyond any words for the years you credit me with! But we were rebels. Please don’t be shocked; my people were all rebels.”
“How delightful! I don’t believe I ever saw one before. How did the war come out? Oh yes! We whipped you, didn’t we?”
“That’s conceded, I believe. I wasn’t born for a decade after it was all over, or I’d never have surrendered. But the government forgave us and let me go to West Point; so here we all are again, and I’m glad of it!”
Frank Pollock was undoubtedly a very agreeable young man, and Zelda Dameron liked him. When he said good night he asked if he might call on her, and Zelda said yes, certainly, though she remembered her uncle’s treatment of Captain Pollock on the river road very well. She knew of no reason why she should not be polite to Captain Pollock, whose manners and conversation were quite to her liking. If her uncle knew any real reason why Captain Pollock was not a proper person for her to know, he might say so.